


Mix & Match

by Rei382



Category: Fullmetal Alchemist - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-09
Updated: 2019-06-01
Packaged: 2019-11-14 14:06:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 20,468
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18053921
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rei382/pseuds/Rei382
Summary: It was always a bad idea to let his brother meddle in Ed's love life. He just had no idea things would get this bad so quickly.





	1. Prologue

"Left. Left. Ewwww. Definitely a left. Left."

"What about this one?"

"Hmmm. No. Left."

Ed crossed his arms over his chest. "You know, if you keep swiping left, this whole thing is kind of pointless."

Two sets of eyes left the phone screen and looked at him. "It's like looking for a needle through a haystack. You can't lose hope so quickly."

"She's right, Ed. I mean… think about it. All those people on those apps, they are all on it  because they can't really find someone in real life. Some of them might be doing that because they're shy, or not very outgoing, or too busy – "

"But mostly," Winry cut into Al's words. "Because they're damn ugly. You just have to… not lose hope. I have a lot of friends who actually found someone through apps like that. You know Mindy? She found her current boyfriend on Tinder."

"I know  _ some _ people do. But it’s harder when you’re gay. I just don't think – "

"Oh! Winry look at this one."

Ed let out a groan of annoyance when both his brother and his fiancée completely ignored him and turned their attention back to the phone screen.  _ His _ phone screen. Winry looked like she was examining the picture Al was showing her very seriously. She lifted her hand to the phone screen, swiped – and her features twisted in disgust at the new picture. "Wow.  _ Strong _ left."

"I don't know, maybe Ed would like it. Brother, come on over here for a sec, look at this."

"I told you, I don't want to do this…" Ed replied, but got up from his seat anyway and reluctantly walked over. He stood right behind where Al and Winry were sitting and looked over their shoulders at the screen. For a moment he didn't understand what the fuss was all about – until he realized that was he was looking at was a very naked butt. It was a nice looking butt, but it was still very naked and very much out on display. The guy in the picture definitely had no shyness issues. And that was before mentioning how hairy his back was. "Fuck. Why would you think I'd like that?" he said, and reached over to swipe left. The next picture came up. It was of a guy sipping from a glass of beer.

"I don't know. Maybe you like bold guys. Not this one, Brother."

"I  _ do not _ like guys who show their asses off to strangers. Why? He's actually kind of cute."

Winry looked up at him. "His nose is huge."

"And that's a cheap ass beer. You don't want a guy like that."

Ed frowned, but swiped left. The guy wasn't all that hot anyway. " _ I _ drink cheap ass beers."

"But you're not posting any pictures of it on your dating app."

"Because  _ you _ set up my app and uploaded pictures without even asking me. What about this one?" A picture of a guy sitting on a bench and feeding something to a dog that was standing with its feet on the guy's knees showed up. He was blond, and his smile was pretty.

"Isn’t he a little too…"

"Not muscly enough?"

"Well, he isn't, but compared to the rest of the stuff out there – "

"Fine, fine," Al's finger moved on the screen, swiping right. "It's going to be your date so I guess you do have a say in it."

Ed rolled his eyes. "Thank you so much for letting me voice my opinions on the guys you choose for me."

Al looked up at him and smirked. "You're welcome, Brother." He looked back at the phone. In the meanwhile, Winry swiped left a few other guys. "Oh! This one is cute! Like it."

Winry's finger swiped right, and a message popped up on the screen.  _ It's a match! _

"Ohh! Look, Ed! He liked you too.  _ Message him _ ."

Ed felt his cheeks burning. "No, I don't want to – "

"There. I'll just text him something simple. How about 'Hey there'?"

"How about  _ no _ ?" But of course no one listened to him. Al clicked on the picture and, with Winry watching over him, typed a short message. He then clicked out and went back to the main page. There was a new picture there now. The man in the picture had pale skin and dark hair. He was looking sideways at the camera, clearly posing for the picture. In a fitted suit holding a glass of wine, he looked like an arrogant asshole. The annoying, smug smirk that was spread on his face didn't do a thing to make Ed think any better of him.

Ed hated him.

"Oh! Would you look at that." Winry started looking through the man's other pictures. There was one of him sitting at a bar with another guy. The next one was a selfie with sunglasses sitting inside a car, the  _ Mustang _ brand's running horse clear on the steering wheel.

"Swipe left."

"No way." She moved her finger to the guy's name, clicking on it to see more information. He had a whole story written on his profile. Ed would give his entire monthly pay if anyone ever bothered to read the entire thing. "See? He's a serious guy. He's a bit old, look, thirty seven, but I mean…  _ Wow _ ."

"I don't know Win, he's good looking but he's like, fifteen older than us."

"With Ed it's only fourteen.  _ Look _ ! He's probably loaded, too. I'm swiping right."

"Don't you dare - !"

Her finger moved, and the next picture showed up. "Ah! Too late. Anyway he didn't like you back yet, so nothing happened. You know even if you match and you don't feel like it you don't have to text him. Though I see no reason why not, that guy looks like a good catch."

"He looks like an asshole."

" _ A good looking _ asshole. Maybe just for a night then?"

" _ Oh my god Winry! _ Give me back my phone – " reaching over, Ed snatched the phone out of his friend's hands. Before she could take it back, he closed the app and put the phone in the pocket of his pants. Alphonse was looking at them, an amused smile on his lips. Ed wanted the ground to open up and swallow him whole. Or swallow his meddling brother and best friend whole. Either would work. "Enough of that. I'm hungry. Do you want to order pizza?"

They discussed toppings and crust types, and the whole Tinder saga was left alone.


	2. Chapter 1

Finally alone in his small apartment, Ed cleaned up the leftovers from Al and Winry's visit. Pizza box in the trash, glasses in the sink and the empty bottle of coke in the recycling bag. He looked at the bottle of vodka still sitting on his dining table. The amount left was insulting to keep and put back in the fridge. Shrugging, he took the bottle and emptied the little amount left into his mouth. Without the coke it was disgusting, but at least now he didn't feel like he wasted any. He might get a headache tomorrow morning – but he might be getting one anyway, if they managed to finish the whole bottle just he and Winry. Lucky it was Saturday and he didn't really need to  _ do _ anything tomorrow. He threw the glass bottle into the recycling bag too, wincing at the loud sound it made as it hit the floor and the other bottles in the bag. At least it didn't sound as if it broke – that would have been awful.       

He loved his brother, and Winry was his best friend and soon to officially become a part of his family, but hosting them was sometimes a bit rough. Like today, for example. So he never had any relationship yet. So what? He was only twenty-three. He was fresh out of college and was about to start his Master's degree. He had an apartment to keep and a full time job to juggle. He didn't have time to meaninglessly date. It wasn't like he could keep a relationship with his schedule, or that he was able to commit to anything now. He didn't mind it, either. He was good with the way he lived. With his brother, and the few friends he had. His hand was enough for him now, he didn't feel like he really needed someone else.

Some day, maybe, sure. He would like to have a relationship one day. But now… it just wasn't the right timing.

Alphonse, clearly, disagreed with him. And Winry had jumped in on the opportunity to torture Ed. They had said that he'd been alone for too long. That they were so happy together, and they wanted Ed to feel that same happiness. It had all gotten much worse, of course, when they had announced their engagement a week ago, and started to push at Ed to look for someone more actively. And today, they had set up his profile on the stupid app and started swiping about, completely ignoring his requests or even  _ opinion _ .

Sometimes he felt like he could punch his brother. What was so bad about not being in a relationship, anyway?

Feeling satisfied with the state of his apartment (he could wash the dishes tomorrow, it wasn't like he was going to use them today) he grabbed his book ( _ Physics of the Impossible _ by Michio Kaku) and sat on his sofa, intending to read a little before going to bed. He opened it to the last page he had read and was ready to lose himself in some interesting theories, when his phone chimed.

He glanced at the clock. Al and Winry should already be home, but with Al something could always happen. He grabbed his phone and glanced at the screen. He had a few notifications from a few apps (he really should uninstall some of them, this was getting ridiculous) and he searched through the list until he found the responsible one for the offensive sound. A small flame symbol at the corner of his screen, and an excited message staring at him.  _ You have a new match! _

Shit. He left his book for  _ this _ ? Annoyed, he slid his finger on the screen, getting rid of all the notifications about people liking one picture or another, or tagging him in another useless meme, and worse of all, the messaging group of his class, permanently muted but always bothering the top left side of his phone screen. He was almost done when his phone chimed again, and the little flame symbol showed up again.  _ Roy sent you a message. _

Ed blinked at the screen. Roy. Wasn't that the asshole sports car dude? The old one? Did he actually like him back? A guy who was fourteen years younger than him?

What a pervert.

Ed slid his finger across the screen; but his finger slipped, and instead of making the notification disappear, he clicked on it. The messaging screen appeared, a single line written in it.

_ Have you ever rode a Mustang? _

Oh  _ God _ . Ed almost threw up in his mouth a little. What a cheesy line. He should probably just click out and let that pervert dwell in his own stupidity. But by now he could feel the effect of the clean vodka on his brain, making his head feel a bit heavier than the usual. He was annoyed. Maybe he should teach that bastard a lesson. If he was already there…

_ I'm good with the bus, thank you. _

Not the sharpest respond he could come up with, but it'd do. Semi-satisfied with himself as he was sure this message would dissuade the man from texting him again, Ed put the phone aside and returned to his book.

He didn't even manage to go through one line before the phone chimed again. He scoffed and grabbed the device, opening the screen to see that that Roy guy texted him again.

_ Not the type for sports cars huh? _

"Not the type for cheesy men like you," Ed muttered to himself. Another message appeared on his screen.

_ What do you like then? _

This guy was not giving up. With half a smirk, Ed started typing.  _ Smart people. _

_ You are in luck then. _

Ed arched up his eyebrow.  _ So far you're not making a great first impression. _

_ You have not met me yet. _ The next message was a winking face.  _ I would like to change that. _

This guy clearly was not playing any games.  _ Good luck with that. I'm not interested in sex with strangers. _

_ Then why are you on Tinder? _

_ That's none of your goddamn business. _

Ed looked at the screen. The little icon from the group chat of his school reappeared, but he ignored it, like he always did. Other than that, his phone remained quiet. He frowned. Did the pervert finally give up? He stared at the phone, daring it to make another noise, but it remained quiet. He moved his finger, clicking on Roy's name and looking through his profile again. The smug smirk appeared again. Ed wanted to punch him in the face even more now, after those cheesy lines he used on him. Ed slid his finger, and the second picture – the one with the other guy – showed up. They seemed very close, that other guy's arm wrapped over Roy's shoulders. They were both smiling, big, happy smiles. Ed had to admit that the happiness in the picture was somewhat addictive. He wondered who it was. A brother? But the skin tone and face shape didn't match. So either a friend, or a lover. They definitely seemed close enough to be lovers. Were they still together and that Roy guy was looking for a side fuck? If so, he felt sorry for the lover. He looked like a great guy. The glasses on his eyes made him look smart, too. Smarter than the Roy guy seemed to be. Ed moved slightly, making himself a little more comfortable. Unlike the first picture with the pretentious wine, here at least they were drinking just plain beer, like normal people. He placed his finger on the screen again to move to the next picture when he noticed a gleam of gold he didn't see before on the guy with the glasses.

A wedding ring.

That Roy guy was  _ married _ ?! Ed took a closer look at the picture, but he could not see Roy's hands. But he didn't need to, not with that closeness between the two. What an asshole. To cheat on your boyfriend was one thing, but to cheat on your husband?.. That was unforgivable.

He clicked back to the message screen.  _ Maybe I should ask you why  _ you're _ on Tinder when you're fucking married. Bastard. _

He clicked out of the app and placed the phone away.

Perverts and cheaters. Ed didn't need any of that in his life. He'd text Al tomorrow and tell him exactly what he thought about his stupid idea to try and find Ed a date through the stupid app.


	3. Chapter 2

Roy let out a sigh of relief as he finally made it to the urinal. The damn beer just kept flowing through him, and the line at the bathroom was not helping. You'd think he was waiting for the ladies' room. When he was done, he zipped his pants, ignoring the guy that was waiting and urging him to move away when he made his way to the sink to wash his hands. There were no hand towels, but that was to be expected. He squeezed his way back to the bar, wincing at the sudden burst of music the moment he opened the bathroom door, but he got used to it quickly and made his way back to his seat.

Heymans Breda and Jean Havoc were exactly where he left them at the bar, and surprisingly enough his seat was still available as well. He took it, and frowned when he realized that both his beer and his phone were gone. "Hey, guys, where are my stuff?" he asked, and the two heads turned towards him. Now that Havoc's head wasn't hiding the space between them he could see the light of the phone screen  in his hands.

 _His_ phone screen.

"Welcome back, Roy."

"What are you doing with my phone? Give it back," he reached over and grabbed it from Jean's hands. "How did you even unlock it?"

"You left it unlocked." _Big mistake_. "We didn't do anything."

Roy did not buy that for a second. He looked at his phone. At the notification bar. He had all his usuals – text messages that he did not have the time to respond to yet, emails he did not intend to respond to on a Saturday night, some social media notifications. And a new one. A _familiar_ one. He clicked on it, and was surprised when the single notification opened to about a dozen. Messages and new matches. He looked at his two friends. " _You opened my Tinder_?"

Their faces were all innocence. "Well, you see…"

"You keep talking about how you are running out of options, so we thought we'd… _help out_ a bit."

"I was doing perfectly fine – is that a _man_? Did you change my settings?"

There was nothing innocent about the smirk on Jean and Heymans’ face now. "Maybe."

Roy clicked through the notifications. Most of them were  first messages - some guys saying either hi, introducing themselves and the sort. But the one before the last caught his attention. A guy was accusing him of being married? And calling him a bastard? Did they – "Did you text under _my_ _name_?"

"What's the point of getting matches if you don't start talking to them? But look how many matches you got! And we only had it open for like… what? Five minutes?" Jean looked at Heymans, who nodded in approval.

"I am a very handsome man – this is not the point! What exactly did you say? You better not have said anything embarrassing – " he clicked on the angry message, scrolling to see the entire conversation. " _Did you ever ride a Mustang_?! Are you serious?!"

"We thought that was hilarious."

Heymans smiled. "You _do_ own a Mustang, it's not like we lied."

Jean shrugged. "It's a very good word play. Too bad you didn't put your last name in your profile too. With that last picture, it could work great."

Roy frowned. "What last picture?"

"Oh. I took the liberty to freshen up your profile a little bit. Both your pictures were a bit… outdated."

" _What did you post?_ " He clicked out of the messages screen and on his profile settings. The first picture was the one Maes chose for him, saying he looked dashing in it. He was not wrong. The second picture was the one that he chose, back at the time. It was also the main reason he did not open his account in three years. Ever since that asshole hit Maes' car and ruined a once happy family of a wife, a husband and a young child, as well as Roy's only true friendship. He didn't remember  the day they took that picture anymore, but they shared so many moments like this it didn't matter when exactly. He swiped and watched the third picture. This one was new. He recognized it as the picture he took the day he bought his new car and jokingly sent a picture of himself sitting in it to a couple of his friends and uploaded it to his snapchat. He even remembered the caption he added. 'A Mustang in a Mustang'. He thought it was a smart joke.

He did _not_ think it was a picture that should be uploaded to the likes of Tinder.

"Havoc…" Roy started, but Jean patted him on his back.

"It's a really good picture of you. The sunglasses hide those wrinkles you have going on near your eyes – "

"And chicks dig sports cars. Apparently, guys do too. Look how many likes you got! And they all texted first, except for that blond one. But we took the liberty to text him – "

"…and used the worse line you could ever use. And then you took the liberty to ask him to _meet_ _me_ without me even knowing _he existed_ , or without me telling you I like men. Let’s say he would have gone with it and said yes. What would you do then?"

"People ghost all the time on Tinder and all those dating apps. He would've understood."

"Yeah, Roy, it's not a big deal. Beer?"

"You owe me. Get me a whiskey, and you pay."

"Sure. Whatever." Jean called the bartender and ordered three whiskeys. Roy scrolled through the other messages in his phone. There was one woman, and all the rest were men. None of them was good looking, either. Except for that blond guy, who seemed to be under the wrong impression that Roy was married. He clicked on his profile. A bright grin welcomed him, so big Roy couldn't help but wonder what made him so happy – what would make him this happy again. A beautiful face surrounded that grin. The nose was a little strange, but nothing that really took away from his looks. He had big, golden eyes and golden hair that seemed to be longer than shoulder length – but it was hard to see since it was collected in a braid. He looked down.

Ed. Twenty four. 10 km away. His bio only had one sentence. _Down to earth._

 _Twenty four?_ That was a bit young, even for Roy's taste. But he did like his profile back, and even texted him – his replies sharp and sassy. Roy was intrigued.

"Here."

Roy lifted his face from the phone, clicking the side button to turn the screen off. There were now three glasses of whiskey in front of them. Jean and Heymans took one each, leaving the third one for Roy. He took it, and brought the drink to his lips. Ah, there was nothing like a good whiskey.

"There was this one lady that texted you too, but I think maybe it was a while ago."

"Well he has nothing to lose by texting her back now, no?" Heymans joked. Then the smile disappeared, and he frowned, looking thoughtful. "Wait a second. You said _you didn't tell us you liked men_. Roy Mustang, do you like men?" At his words, Jean almost choked on his drink, looking at Breda shortly before fixing his stare on Roy.

Roy looked at his friends. He offered half a smirk, and raised his glass towards them. "Cheers. Thanks for the drink," he said. They both kept staring at him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whoops, I meant to post this last night ^^" Hope you enjoyed!


	4. Chapter 3

Sleep left him, leaving in its wake a headache and a pressing need to use the restroom. Ed groaned and turned on his back. He scratched his stomach, trying to gather the strength to open his eyes. Eventually he managed to muster the necessary energy and he slowly sit up、thankful that, despite nearly collapsing on his bed last night, he at least had the mind to close the blinds before he lost consciousness. The darkness made the whole handling a new day deal that much easier. He sighed and reached over to the side of his head, moving his hand and patting the mattress a few times before he found what he was looking for. Ed brought his phone in front of his face, turning it on and unlocking the screen after seeing the time. 13:41. Definitely time to wake up. 

He had forgotten to charge the phone during the night, which meant it  only had 19% percent left. Great. He glanced at his notification bar. of course, it was full of all the useless shit it always had. A few emails (mostly advertisements that he still didn’t figure out how to get rid of), a text from his brother reminding him not to wake up too late, that had been, obviously, sent too late, a missed phone call from his brother, probably to say the same thing, and some random notifications from other apps. He swiped away the missed call and clicked on the text from his brother.  _ It’s my day off, I can sleep in as much as I want _ , he typed, and hit send, before moving on to the rest of it. People tagged him on Facebook in some random cat memes, some of which he even bothered with a ‘like’ button to show his appreciation. Next was his Discord, some invitation for online games that he missed and some private messages. He responded to them, ignoring the ‘charge your phone’ message that popped up as soon as the percentage hit 15%. Now he was only left with a new text from Al, and a few of his useless apps, like the one that reminded him to drink water. He cancelled them until the only icons left were the message from Al ( _ 2pm is NOT a good time to start your day, Brother _ ) and a few small flames. 

Ed frowned. He almost managed to forget last night’s main entertainment for Alphonse and Winry. Torturing him. He clicked to unminimize the notifications. A few  _ You have a new match! _ . Two new messages. He opened the matches first. He did not recognize any of those guys.  _ Just how many profiles did Win and Al liked before I came over? _ He wondered. Next was checking his messages. One was from one of those new guys (a simple, unassuming,  _ hey, I’m Ben. Nice to meet you! _ ) and the other was from that Roy guy.

Haven’t his messages last night not thrown him off? Maybe he liked being called out. Some people had weird kinks like that. 

He moved his finger to swipe it away, but it slipped and the phone slid from his hand, falling straight on his face. He swore and picked it up, first making sure his nose hadn’t accidently called anyone or sent a weird text. Luckily the only thing it did was opening the text from his Tinder match. His eyebrows arched up. It was a relatively lengthy message, considering.

_ I want to start with an apology.  _ Damn right you do, Ed thought. He wasn’t even sure why he was reading this, but it was already open, and he had started, so he might just as well see what the cheating bastard wanted.  _ First, I did not text you until now. It was my friends. They kidnapped my phone. Second, I am not married. The guy in my picture was a very close friend of mine, and he is the one that was married. I am sorry for the confusion. I would like to start again.  _ The message ended, and there was a new text bubble.  _ Hello. My name is Roy. I’m thirty-seven and work at a high-tech company. Tell me a little about yourself? _

Ed stared at it.

It was so… different than everything that guy had said so far. Which made sense, considering the guy claimed it was not him who was texting him before. A part of him wanted to say that it was a scam. He couldn’t deny that this Roy guy was standardly handsome. Nice symmetry to the face, especially with the hint of mixed heritage that Ed could see in the shape of his eyes. Something Asian probably. Japanese, Chinese, Korean, maybe something from southeast Asia. Ed was not an expert, but he always did think mixed people had a special kind of beauty to them. If he was working in high-tech and owned a Mustang car, then it was safe to assume he was relatively wealthy, too. Why would a guy like that be legitimately interested in Ed? He was just a student, and not that physically impressive. He was fourteen years younger. It could very easily be some kind of a pervert fishing for easy prey, trying to get him quick and easy and then making up a story when that did not work. 

He frowned at his phone and clicked on the message from his brother instead.  _ 2pm is an excellent time to start my day. I go straight for the best meal and skip the worst part of the day. _ He texted, and kicked the blanket off. Teasing his brother aside, he really should get out of the bed and start his day. He put on a pair of boxers and an old t-shirt before he grabbed his leg and attached it. Even if that guy would have been serious about this whole starting over thing, would he still want to talk to him if Ed told him about his leg? Most people changed their attitude the moment he told them about it, but he also never tried online dating. He headed to the bathroom, happy that, even though his head was aching a little today, at least his leg did not. After taking care of his morning routine he headed for the kitchen, opening the fridge to see what he could grab. One piece of leftover pizza from yesterday, a few eggs. An avocado. A half used pack of burgers. He took out the pizza and took a bite, wrinkling his nose at the foul flavor of cold pizza before he grabbed the burgers and headed to his stove. He took another bite and went back to pick up some vegetables, alternating between eating and making an actual lunch.

Once everything was ready he sat down to have his breakfast, knowing very well that other people might call it lunch. But what was a name really. Just a word. Ed didn't need no definitions, they just limited the mind.

He grabbed the remains of his cold pizza and shoved it into his mouth, still grimacing at the taste. Perhaps he should have been less lazy and heat it up, but it was too late for that now and he was done with the cold pizza. Now, he had a delicious burger to tend to. Excitement built inside him as he looked at it,  fumes still coming out of it, the cheese and sauces he put inside (pesto, barbecue and garlic mayo) dripping from the sides, making the patty look even juicier than it was when Ed grilled it to just the right readiness level. He grabbed it with two hands and took a bite. He briefly closed his eyes at the deliciousness, unable to hold back a small, happy moan. He was enjoying his bite when his phone chimed again, ruining the moment. He placed the burger back on his plate and wiped his hands on a piece of paper towel he found nearby and grabbed his phone. He was even more annoyed at the disturbance when he realized the notification that bothered him was yet another message from that Tinder app. Apparently he had yet another new match with a guy he did not even recognize. He clicked on it, to make it disappear more than anything else, and it took him to the app’s main page. It showed him all his matches (how on earth did it get to seven?) and the few messages he had. Roy’s message was on top, his picture – the one where he was holding a glass of wine – staring back at him from the little circle surrounding it. The first few words of his text appeared there, his apology.

Ed chewed, his thumb hovering over the picture. After apologizing, the guy did not sound that bad. Ed still did not want to have anything to do with him, but… He frowned, swallowed, and picked up his burger to take another bite. Then, he placed it back on the plate, muttered ‘fuck it’, and clicked on the image. Roy’s profile opened, his smug smile staring at him again (bigger now). Under it was the familiar writing. Roy. 37. 10km away.

Ed chewed on his food, staring at the block of text under the basic information. His eyes automatically scanned the words. 

_ NO DRAMA. I don't like posers and people who enjoy wasting other people's time. I don't have time for nonsense but I will make time for you if you're worth it. I enjoy long walks and I love traveling. As St. Augustine wisely said、’the world is a book and those who do not travel only read one page'. I enjoy good music and good books. If you talk to me about German literature, you will have my heart. I'm very laid back but don't bother texting if you're only going to say ‘hi'. If we do click, you can be sure I will take good care of you. I will take you to the best restaurants in town or the farmers' market on a sunny Sunday. Swipe right if you want to know more. _

Ed arched an eyebrow and took another bite. This man sounded like a pretentious fart. But his new text sounded much less of a turn off than his profile. Did that guy actually get liked with this kind of text written under his pretentious pictures? But then Ed remembered Winry's reaction to this profile and he realized that some people probably don't care. It was the kind of guy someone normal would start a conversation with for just one night and then ditch. Like Winry wanted him to do.

Oh well. He clicked on the messages again. Tell him about himself. Ed thought for a moment、and then decided he was bored enough and curious enough to see how a guy who chose to write this kind of text on a dating app got to the conclusion it was a good idea to text someone like Ed. He placed his burger on his plate.  _ Sure. Your ‘friends’.  _ Send. He stared at it. Something gnawed at him. After all, his ‘friends’ -  _ family _ \- did the exact same thing to him.  _ My friends swiped you right without my consent, too.  _

Pleased with himself, he replaced his phone on the table and returned to his lunch. 


	5. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

 

“Mom, it’s _Sunday_.”

“Yes, I know it is, but you didn't do this when it was a weekday so you have to finish now. On Sunday. Next week, don't wait for the weekend and just do your homework on time, I promise I won't bother you.”

He heard an annoyed snort. “But uncle Roy's here. He's probably bored as fuck.”

“Watch your language, young lady. I'm sure Roy doesn't mind waiting for you to finish your homework. He knows that school is important. Right, Roy?”

Roy smiled to himself in amusement, making sure not to show it to not encourage the young teen. Instead he busied himself with the dishes, rinsing the mug he just washed. “School is very important, Elicia. You might not see it now, but, without having a diploma and hopefully good grades, you will not be able to go the university - “

“Yeah, you see, _more school_. I don’t want - “

“Which means,” Roy continued pointedly, talking over Elicia’s words, “that you will be very limited in what you can do for a living later in life. I am not saying that choosing a path that doesn’t take you to university is bad, but you are only twelve and you should keep your options open,” he concluded, and placed the plate on the drying stand.

“He’s right. If we focus on this now, we can be finished in half an hour and then you can go and do whatever you want without me bothering you. Let’s get it done, okay?”

There were a few seconds of silence which meant, Roy figured, that Elicia was considering her options. He rinsed the mug and put it on the drying stand too. His phone chimed, and Roy dried his hands with the nearby towel before checking the screen. He heard Elicia giving in and telling Gracia that if they were not done within half an hour she will take a break, and smiled to himself when Gracia agreed. They were both busy. A new notification appeared on his screen. _Ed sent you a message!_. He arched his eyebrow. When he did not receive any response last night he figured Jean and Heymans managed to scare his Tinder match away, or perhaps he liked Roy’s own writing style even less than his friends’ straightforward one. His smile changed, softening. He glanced at the livingroom and figured there was no harm in checking his messages. It didn’t sound like this Ed guy believed that he was not the one who texted him the cheesy pick up lines. It also seemed like he was not very impressed with him to begin with. His friends swiped right. ‘Without his consent’, which implied that, had it been up to him, he would have never ‘liked’ Roy.

And yet he was texting him.

He thought for a moment, and then typed, _some friends we have, huh?_ He paused, and smirked before typing another message. _At least it looks like yours have excellent taste._

He put his phone on the counter and returned to his dish washing. A moment later his phone rang again. _Yeah, right. Bet your ‘friends’ are also responsible for that bio of yours._

Roy arched up his eyebrow. _No, this one is actually 100% me. Feel intrigued?_

_lol. Seriously?_

Roy stared at his phone screen. What did this guy mean by that? He frowned. His biography was very good. There was not a single detail he did not stand behind. Sure, if he wrote it now, and not five years ago, there were a few  phrasings he would change... But to go from that to the mockery he sensed from Ed’s message? _Well, yes. I think it is better to put all the cards on the table right from the start. Don’t you?_

“Roy? Could you come over for a moment?” Gracia’s voice tore Roy’s attention from his phone and he glanced at the living room. Both Gracia and Elicia were looking at him. He put his phone in his pocket and walked towards them.

“We ran into a small issue in the mathematics homework. Do you think you can help? I will finish with the dishes.” Gracia smiled sheepishly at him when he reached them, placing her hand on his shoulder. “I am really no good with maths,” she said apologetically.

Roy offered her a smile and took her place next to Elicia. “I’m happy to help whenever I can.” Gracia left for the kitchen to finish the few dishes Roy still had left from their lunch and Roy turned his attention to Elicia and her notebook.

Geometry. It wasn’t his strongest field, but he knew he could handle 7th grade geometry well enough to help his best friend’s daughter.

“I don’t get it. How is that even possible? I mean why would those numbers even be connected?”

Roy smiled and looked at the equations in question. Triangles and Pythagoras. “Getting into the theory of it will be very boring and might confuse you, but if you want, I can. Basically what you need to know is that the straight angle of the triangle creates a situation where the proportions have to be that way. It is not that complicated though, once you get the hang of it. You see here?” he pointed at the side of the triangle in question. “You see this here? This is the triangle's side length. Okay?”

“But it’s not a _number_.”

“It doesn’t have to be. Look,” he grabbed a notepad and started writing.

 

A few hours later Roy was driving his Mustang back to his place. He loved his Sunday lunches at the Hughes’s place. When he started, three years ago, it was because after Maes’s death he figured Gracia could use any help she could get. He could use the extra company too, if he were honest with himself. It then became a tradition that he enjoyed keeping and he did his best not to skip any weeks. By now Elicia really felt like she was his niece, and he loved her like actual family. He loved Gracia, too. She was so good for Maes, and she was an amazing person by herself, too. He kept hoping she would manage to move on and find herself someone new, but every time he brought up the subject she said she was fine, and started pestering him about his own love life instead. He tried not to bring up the subject anymore.

He parked the car in his garage and walked towards his building, pulling his phone from the back pocket of his pants. He had a few new notifications that he decided not to check once Elicia was done with her homework and headed to her room and he was left to chat with Gracia over coffee. He clicked on the first few - a few texts from Jean, complaining about his loveless life, _again_ ; a message from his aunt roasting him for not calling for two whole weeks; five work-related emails, but nothing that looked urgent. He also saw three of the little fire symbols.

Smiling to himself, he got into the elevator and clicked the button that said 23. The doors closed and he opened the messages from the Tinder app. Ed’s face showed up in the small circle next to a message. A _long_ message. Roy arched up an eyebrow and slid the screen up until he reached the last message he sent. It was followed by a relatively short message from Ed. _Cards on the table? Really?_ And then the long message followed.

_First of all, no drama? Capitalized? That fucking screams drama. Probably enough drama for the next thousand episodes of Days of Our Lives or whatever shit they still have on. Second. Not wasting time? Like, did you READ your bio? I don’t think I read such a snooze fest since my teacher forced me to read Heidegger. You do know that mentioning ‘German Literature’ and the literally most overused quote by St. Augustine makes you seem like the greatest poser ever, right? I mean, if you’re already quoting something at least be original. Next. ‘Laid back’? You know, literally every single thing about your profile says the exact opposite. That line included. Not to mention that saying you’d ‘take good care’ of whoever you click with makes you sound like the biggest pervert ever. Which does not surprise me considering you’re texting me and I’m literally a whole person who can have sex younger than you._

There was another short message after this. As if Roy's ego wasn't hurt enough. _Also_ , _that Mustang picture? That has douche written all over it. Is that even really your car or did you rent it for the picture?_

By the time the elevator doors opened Roy’s smile was gone. This was… not what he expected. At all.  He kept staring at the messages, so long the doors almost closed. He reached over to force them open again and stepped out, making his way to his apartment.

This made no sense. The only flaw in his current profile was the car selfie that Jean decided to add, and even that was not too bad. He liked saving Bella as a surprise when he first picked up his date and he didn't like posing with sunglasses but those were minor flaws. To go from that to the absolute roast he received just now was… a hard blow.

He fumbled with his keys in search for the one that would open his apartment door. As soon as he pushed it open, he was met with happy barks and a second later his dog was already at his feet, happily asking for attention. He automatically made Roy grin, no matter what happened during the day – including an incredibly hot guy on an online dating app trashing every single detail about how he chose to present himself. “Hello Charlie, missed me?” he bent down to pet his head. “Yes you did, I see that you did!” his voice rose a little with each syllable. “I missed you too, buddy.” With one last pet, he straightened up and closed his door behind him before putting his keys on the table and returning to his dog. He ruffled his furry head, chuckling at the dog’s excited barks. “How are you feeling? You look so much better.” He bent down again. “Say hi,” he said, placing his palm up on his knee for the dog to put his paw on his hand. Once he did, Roy took his paw and looked at it. “It looks much better, doesn’t it? Maybe tomorrow we can go for an actual walk, what do you say?” he replaced the paw on the floor and got up. He took off his coat and hung it, then headed for the kitchen.

He busied himself with making dinner, and soon enough Charlie was sitting next to him, waiting for pieces of food to be thrown at him - or accidentally dropped in his direction. “I left you enough food. Why are you acting like I’m starving you?” he said with a smile. “You’re living well, don’t you try acting like you don’t. You know I spoil the hell out of you.” He looked down at his dog’s big eyes, pouted, and then threw a piece of the chicken he was cutting to the floor. A happy bark and Charlie’s face disappeared under all his fur as he bent down to eat the chicken. “Yes, you are very spoiled. So don’t go around complaining when I leave you here one day. You know you couldn’t handle the travel today. Not with that leg of yours. If you don’t want that to happen again,” he looked down again to see Charlie had already vacuumed the chicken and was now looking at him and expecting a second serving. He sighed and threw another piece down. “Then you should listen to me and not run around. It’s my job to keep you safe, but I can’t do that if you don’t listen to me, you know?”

He put the cut chicken into a bowl and started seasoning it. “Besides, you’re not the only who had a bad day today. You know what happened to me?” He looked down. Charlie was looking back at him, listening eagerly. He then turned on the stove, placed a pan on the flame and poured some oil in before he added the chicken. “Your dad was roasted. Well done. So much that even you wouldn’t touch it.” He went towards the fridge, making sure not to walk into the dog, and took out a bell pepper, placing it on the cutting board and cutting it. “I met this guy, well, not exactly. Uncle Jean met this guy and pretended to be me. But I only tried to make things better and fix his impression of me after Jean wrecked my image. And do you know what he said?” He looked at Charlie, who was still listening eagerly. Or waiting for Roy to throw a bell pepper at him. Probably the later. He threw the cut vegetable into the pan. “He said that my Tinder profile is bad. He said that I sound like a poser. He called me a pervert. Me!” Charlie whined. “I’m not a pervert. I wouldn’t hit on someone as young as he is, typically. But he’s an adult. And it’s only fourteen years. He liked me too.” He paused. “Although he also said that it was his friends and if it was up to him he wouldn’t have. But neither would I, you know. I don’t know what Jean and Heymans were thinking. A twenty-four years old.” the chicken looked ready. He went to the cupboard and took out a plate. He poured a potion and then walked towards his dining table, Charlie slowly following behind.

Roy sat down, placing his phone and his plate on the table in front of him. “From his messages though, he sounds older than that.” He was about to start eating, and then realized he forgot to bring over utensils. Groaning in annoyance, he got up and headed towards the kitchen. “Don’t steal my food, Charlie!” he called, grabbing a fork and returning as quickly as he could. Charlie was already with two paws on the chair, but it looked like he still hadn’t made it to the plate. He pushed him away. “But I asked you…” he sighed, and then stuffed some of his chicken into his mouth. Hopefully it didn’t yet have any dog saliva on it, but even if it did, he couldn’t really tell anyway. “He sounds smart. Knowledgeable. Witty.” He chewed on his food and reached for his phone. Once the screen turned on, Edward’s messages showed up. Roy frowned and clicked on his profile. “He is also gorgeous. Don’t you think so, Charlie?” He lowered the phone to his dog’s level. Charlie, probably smelling the chicken, barked happily and licked the screen. Roy laughed and took the phone away as quickly as he could, wiping the screen on his pants. “Clearly you think so too.” He brought the phone back in front of him, staring at the picture while eating. “Do you think I should text him?” Charlie barked again. “Yes? But he also insulted Bella. No one insults Bella. Right, Charlie?”  

Another small bark. “I should prove him that he’s wrong. My profile is perfect. My bio is good too. Right?” Roy was done eating, feeling full enough. There were still a few pieces left on his plate. Thoughtful, he took the plate and lowered it to Charlie’s height. The dog barked happily and started licking the plate clean. “He just got it all very, very wrong.”


	6. Chapter 5

The noises around him made it had to concentrate. The constant beeping of machines, the talking people, the noise of someone running with a lot of clinking equipment every now and then. And of course, Alphonse’s voice, emitting a swear or a triumphant call every now and then. On top of that the nurses that walked in and out of the room added to the overall noisiness, their heels clinking and their voices always cheerful. Not that Ed minded it all that much, and he would not have left his brother alone in this horrid place for any kind of fortune, but if he could do his homework that could have been nice.

“Die – yes – come  _ on _ – shit! No!” Ed looked up from his book at his brother. Alphonse was staring at the phone in his hands in disbelief. He then let out a loud sigh, and leaned back in his bed, staring at the ceiling in despair.

“What happened? You lost?” Ed asked with a smile.

Alphonse turned his big, sad eyes at Ed. “Yeah.” His eyebrows then came together and he glared at him. “Because of your stupid messages. I had this pop up and it hid  _ exactly _ where I was supposed to click, so I missed, and then I died.”

Ed arched an eyebrow. “If you hate  _ my _ phone so much, why’d you use up all your data instead of using the hospital’s WiFi?”

“Because - “ Al started, and stopped. He scoffed. “Just because. Whatever.” He returned to Ed’s phone, clicking about. Probably starting a new game.

Ed shook his head and turned his eyes from him back to his book. “If you're going to finish your data plan and then work on finishing mine, don't go around complaining about my messages.”

“But I was  _ so close _ \- wait, Brother, what's this?”

“Hmm?” Ed looked up again. A part of him was worried that Al will show him something that had to do with his treatment, but he was intent on not letting that constant fear show. Luckily, however, Alphonse was holding Ed's phone close to his nose, looking through something that certainly was not kidney related. Ed wondered for a moment if there was anything there that was embarrassing, but he could not come up with anything. He had no embarrassing pictures or anyone to send such pictures to; no weird websites he gone to, with his phone usage being limited to regular, non-embarrassing social media stuff and school stuff. He should be good.

“You -” Al started, and Ed saw his eyes squint at the screen. “How long have you been texting this guy?”

Or Tinder. Ed's eyes went wide. He completely forgotten about it. Shit. He got up, trying to reach for his phone, but Alphonse kept moving it away from him.

“Like hell I'm giving this back!  _ How long? _ ”

There was only one person Alphonse could have been talking about. He had a few other messages there, from other guys, but no one that he texted more than 2-3 messages before either he or the guy got bored and gave up. Ed looked at his brother, who was seemingly still scrolling, probably through the entire interaction. There was nothing bad there, but still, Ed didn't like the idea of Al reading through it all. “I don't know. Two weeks?”

“Two - did you meet him? You know, in Tinder-time, two weeks basically means you're married,” he smirked.

“No, and  _ no it does not _ . I don't even want to meet him. I hated him from the start. It was you and Winry who swiped him right.”

“And yet, you kept texting him for two weeks on a hook up app. Oh! It's that old guy that Winry liked. I mean, this one was one-hundred-percent her, you two argued and didn’t even let me see. Do you - wait, hold on.”

Something about the tone of Al’s voice made Ed stay quiet instead of telling his little brother exactly why he kept texting him (Roy kept texting back, nothing that Ed said drove him away; there was no reason to say that at some point their conversation actually became interesting and he actually started almost looking forward to his texts). He saw the concentration written in Al's features as his fingers were clicking about. Ed was scared to ask what he was looking for.

Just before his curiosity got the best of him Alphonse sat up and shoved the phone - screen first - in front of Ed’s face. “Brother, is  _ this _ the guy?”

Ed frowned and grabbed the phone, looking at the screen. It showed a Wikipedia page. The title, Roy Rachel Mustang, was written in big black letters. Under it the name was written again, this time in small bold letters. Born August 13th, 1982, London. Founder of PyroTech. A quick scan also told him that he graduated Oxford, and MIT. It also informed him that he was an orphan, both parents died at a car accident when he was three. Underneath he could see a picture. Dressed in what had to be a very nice suite, smiling softly at the camera, was definitely this Roy guy. He stopped reading and looked back at Alphonse.

“Yeah, so?”

Alphonse looked at him, wide-eyes. “This guy is a  _ millionaire  _ Ed.”

Ed shrugged. “Yeah, looks like it. So?”

“Dammit, you're so thick sometimes. Why didn't you go out with him? He's hot, and he's incredibly rich. If you've been talking to him for this long then I'd have to assume you have stuff to talk about too. Did he ask?”

“Ask me out? Sort of. Maybe. A few times. I casually ignored.” Ed didn't get why Alphonse got so caught up on the fact that this guy was loaded. If any, to Ed it seemed like an incredibly good reason to  _ not _ go out with this guy. 

Alphonse looked on the verge of giving Ed a what he would claim was a very needed slap. “You're an idiot. He's hot and rich and clearly has interest in you.  _ Go out with him _ .”

“He’s hot and rich and  _ single _ at thirty-seven. Clearly there’s something wrong with him.”

A nurse Ed recognized as Ashley entered the room and walked towards them. Both brothers smiled at her as she greeted them. “Hello boys. Winry didn’t come in today?” She took Al’s chart and read it. 

“No, she had something at work. I don’t need two people with me anyway.”

“That’s right. I’m sure Ed is entertaining enough for the whole room.” She grinned and placed the chart back. Ed felt his cheeks getting red - mostly because he knew that when he wasn’t reading, she was probably right. He was sure the entire room now knew about Roy (even if not by name) and were already forming their own opinions about his love life. He did not like that, but it wasn’t like he could stop people from listening - or stop Al from talking about it and sticking his nose in his text messages. 

Ashley checked Al’s tubes, making sure that everything was working right. “How are you feeling?”

“I’m okay,” Al said, and Ed watched as he followed Ashley’s actions. “Can’t wait to be done with this though. Not that I’m not going to miss you or the other nurses but really, I’d love to never see your faces again.”

Ashley smiled softly at him. “I know. But with your blood type, finding a match is really hard. You are too special.”

A dark cloud dropped on Ed. He was almost certainly a match. They had the same blood type, and he was good enough do donate blood when Al needed it. “You can still test me,” he said, although he already knew the answer. They went through this at least once a week. With Ashely, or Marianne, or Dave, or Janine. Depending who was working when they walked in.

The nurse let out a sigh, and let go of Al, looking pleased at least with his physical condition. “You know that even if we test you and you turn out a perfect match, you still can’t donate your kidney. Not to your brother and not to anyone else. You’re at a high risk group. The chance of you getting the disease is too high for us to risk your healthy kidneys, as you might actually need both of them. And also, even if we agree to risk you like that, there is a very high chance that your kidney will make Alphonse sick again. And that defeats the point, doesn’t it?”

Ed scoffed. He knew all of that. But it did not change the fact that he felt awful for not being able to help his brother. “It’s only like… twenty-five percent. There's a seventy-five percent chance that I will not get it.”

“Twenty-five percent chance of you getting sick is way too high for the law - or ethics - to allow us to let you donate one of your kidneys, no matter how much you want to. I’m sorry, kid. But we are doing everything we can to find a good, healthy kidney for your brother. One day, we will find it.”

_ One day _ . Ed knew, that being with a genetic disease, Alphonse was not going to be on the top of the donation list despite his young age. Being an O negative certainly did not help since it was a rare blood type, and very picky about donations. The few good organs he might be able to get will first go to people whose condition was not chronic. Ed was his best chance, and they  _ wouldn’t even test him _ . Apparently as far as the hospital was concerned, it was better to keep him on dialysis three times a week than give him a chance at something better and just take Ed’s second one. He could live with one. He was already twenty four, the chance of him presenting symptoms now were very low, even if he had a relatively high chance at getting the disease from birth.

Then, of course, there was the part that no one wanted to talk about. Without a donation, most likely from someone who knew them, Al getting a kidney would mean that someone else - someone otherwise completely healthy - dies. Ed knew that Al could never be fully happy knowing that in order for him to live, someone else had to die. No matter how he looked at it, from the way he saw it, letting him be Al’s donor would be the best option. Sadly, the medical team didn’t see things the same as he did.

“It’s okay, Ed. I’m just joking. Like yeah coming here sucks - no offense,” he smiled sheepishly at the nurse, who smiled back at him and told him that no offense was taken. “But I’m fine. They’ll find me a nice and pretty kidney one day. Maybe even two!” 

Ed forced a soft smile on his lips. “Yes. And then I’m going to make you the best Guacamole ever.”

“Oh… Guacamole…”

The nurse gave Al a moment to cherish that thought before she spoke again. “You seem fine for now. But you know the drill, if you’re feeling any discomfort, call me.”

“You know I like you and all Ash, but I’m taken,” Al joked.

Ashley picked up all her things. “I will not hold my breath then. You boys have fun. Just one more hour and you can go home.”

They both thanked her, and she moved on to the next patient. There was a short moment of silence between them. Ed had a feeling it would not last too long; not considering their conversation before the nurse came to check up on Al. 

He was not wrong. “I don’t think there’d be anything wrong about him. Maybe he just - didn’t find the right person yet. You don’t have to be a weirdo for that to happen to you.”

Ed sighed. “He’s on  _ Tinder _ . Not some…  don’t know, normal dating site.”

“Yeah, and? You’re on Tinder too.”

“Should I remind you that it was you and Winry who put up my profile?  _ Without my consent. _ ”

“Was I supposed to watch my only brother waste his youth like this? I only want you to be happy. You don’t go out. You barely socialize with the people from school. Where are you supposed to find someone?”

Ed shrugged. “I don’t know. I don’t mind not meeting anyone. I have enough on my plate. With school, and work, and you. I care more about that.”

“And yet, you did not delete your profile and you actually text with this guy. I think you want it more than you’re willing to admit, even to yourself, and if you want that, you can make time for that. The right person would accept your limitations. And this Roy guy, I mean, why not? We agree that he’s hot. He has money, so even though that’s not that important to you, it’s a big plus. He’s also very successful, so that says something about his personality. I don’t get why you refuse to at least give it a try.” Alphonse paused, arranging the blanket that the nurse messed a little while checking up on him. “I really think you should give him a chance. Maybe it would turn out that he’s weird or an ass, but he might also just be lonely and hoping to find someone to share his successful life with.”

“Al…”

“One date? For me?” Al smiled at him, his eyes big like a puppy. This was unfair. Alphonse always knew how to push Ed’s buttons in the most efficient ways. He handed him the phone.

Ed stared at it for a moment before he sighed and leaned over to grab it. How could he ever say no? His brother was going through enough without Ed being stubborn too. Plus there was always the chance that the guy did not want to, after all the times Ed turned him down already. He turned the screen on and opened his Tinder, seeing the messages from Roy at the top of the list. He clicked on it and read the last message he sent, the one that apparently made Al lose his game.  _ No, not today. I didn't have time to cook last night so we ordered take out. From the new place on Cardiff St. Apparently they're pretty good! _

Ed looked up at his brother who was still looking at him with his big puppy eyes, although now there was a spark of triumph in them and a hint of a smile.  _ I didn't hear about them. Maybe you can show me one day,  _ he typed. He then turned the screen off and put the phone on the nightstand and crossed his arms over his chest. “If he's a psychopath and kills me Psycho style then it's on you. I hope you're cool with that.”

Al’s smile broadened and he no longer hid his triumph. “Since I'm one hundred percent sure he's not going to do anything except pay for your dinner, yeah, I'm pretty cool with that.“


	7. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for skipping a week, I didn't have the time to finish because of the holiday ><

**Chapter 6**

Roy sat at  _ The Cactus _ , munching on sweet potato fries and drinking whiskey. Occasionally, he was checking his phone, but it never had the messages he was waiting for. He no longer had his table and was therefore sitting at the small bar area. It was a Thursday evening, and as such, not very busy, but there were still some people sitting at the booths, enjoying their meal. Talking, smiling, laughing.  _ Happy _ . Roy winced, downed the remainder of his whiskey, and turned back to the bartender to request another one.

“Drinking won’t make her come any quicker, buddy,” said the guy. He was tall - taller than Roy - and blond. He was also looking at Roy with pitying eyes, and Roy did not like that. At all.

“Drinking makes it easier to wait,” he replied, salty. He did not bother to correct the bartender regarding the gender of the person he was waiting for; there was no point.

His empty glass was replaced with a new full one. “It is not that uncommon, getting stood up, you know. Just go home.”

_ Getting stood up. He got stood up. _ That never happened to him before. He couldn’t understand how that could even happen. He didn’t pressure Ed into meeting him. He did suggest it before, after they started talking and found that they actually had quite a bit to talk about, but he was casually turned down a few times, and then he stopped. This one, however - this one was one-hundred-percent Ed. Roy remembered it very well, mostly because by that point, it had surprised him that he had initiated anything. They were just casually talking, and Roy told him about his lunch. Then out of nowhere Ed suggested that Roy will take him to the place where he got his lunch from. The place where he was currently sitting.  _ Alone _ . All dressed up. About an hour after their agreed-upon meeting time.

Maybe he should listen to the bartender. An hour has passed, he got no messages. No one who showed up at the place, looking like he was looking for a person he was going to meet for the first time. Especially not a young, attractive blond with the most beautiful grin Roy had ever had the honor of seeing. He sighed. “How much do I owe you?” he asked, resigning himself to his fate. This was beyond horrible; but it would also be beyond horrible at home, where at least he would not be embarrassing himself in front of other human beings. Charlie would love him no matter what. At least, as long as he’d give him food.

The guy said a number. “You're doing the right thing, buddy.”

Roy took out his wallet, searched inside for the right amount and handed the bills over. “Sorry for taking up a table,” he said, to which the bartender responded with a casual wave of the hand before he took the money. Roy got up, and lost his balance. He held onto the chair he just left and felt a strong arm holding him, stabilizing him. He frowned. He didn't drink that much, didn't he? He counted silently in his head. Four. Maybe five. Or six. And he only ate the small serving of fries since… he thought about it. Probably seven hours ago. 

“Hold on right there. Sit down.” Roy followed the instructions, reclaiming his seat. “How are you planning to go home?”

Roy thought (about it?) for a moment. He was going to drive, but that seemed to be out of the question. Not when standing up made his head spin. Especially not with his beautiful, brand new Bella. He had no intention of damaging a 50 grand car he got merely three months ago just because a certain young blond guy from  _ Tinder _ decided to stand him up. 

But he didn't want to leave her here, either. Who knows who she might meet while he's sleeping his shame away? There was only one other person he trusted with Bella. He grabbed his phone and pointed at it to show the bartender that he was not going to drive. He looked up the right contact, and dialed. 

“What did you do?” her voice, somehow both soft and stern at the same time, could be heard on the other side of the line after three rings.

Roy knew Riza didn't mean anything bad but it. He knew it was getting late, and he usually didn't call people just to chat. Still, there was something hurtful about how she immediately assumed something was wrong. He pouted. “Nothing. I was supposed to be on a date. But… uh, he didn’t show up. Are you busy? I…” he chuckled nervously. “I can't drive. Can you come and pick me up? I'll text you the address. I'll pay for your taxi.”

For a few seconds there was silence on the other side. “I see. Do you need me to come over now?”

“If you can, yes. I just had a few drinks. Mr…” he looked at the bartender, expecting him to help him out on it, but he was busy with another client. “The bartender recommended I won't drive.”

“Roy…” now her voice was definitely soft, and sad. Roy felt bad about doing this, but there was no one else he trusted. Riza had been there with him through the worse. She saw where the liquor once took him, and he knew that even though he didn't feel like he was going to get that low again, every time he called her and asked her for a ride, he was worrying her that he was back on  _ that _ road. “Don't do anything stupid. I'm on my way.”

“Thank you,” Roy said and hung up. He then texted her the address, placed the phone on the bar, and moved in his seat to make himself more comfortable. The bartender returned to him now. “There. Not driving.” he said, as if that was some great achievement. He thought for a moment, calculating the time it would take Riza to get here. At best case scenario where she leaves her home immediately and catches a taxi as soon as she hits the street, he still had at least fifteen minutes before she arrived. He should occupy himself somehow. Well, since he couldn't drive anyway. “Can I get another one?”

“Are you sure?” The bartender gave him a look. Roy gave him a look back. Then he sighed, and poured another glass of whiskey. “Suit yourself. As long as you don't start making trouble around here.”

“No need to worry about that. I will sit here quietly and wait for my friend.”  _ And wallow in my own miserableness.  _ “Do you mind however giving me a menu? I would like to order some take out.”

 

Roy looked at the door every time it opened. About twenty minutes later, the door opened and the face he was looking for appeared. She located him easily and headed over, frowning at the (seventh? eight?) glass of whiskey in his hand. “Roy…”

The bartender gave her a look, and Roy could only guess what he was assuming. Did he think that she was his wife, or girlfriend? They certainly did not look like brother and sister, not with his black hair and asian eyes, and her very fair skin and even blonder hair. They could always be step brother and sister, or adopted, but Roy knew this was not what the guy would assume. He could assume whatever he wanted as far as Roy was concerned. He could think he was cheating, he could think they led an open relationship. Roy really did not care. “Since I’m not driving anyway there’s no harm,” he said, and knew that she would strongly disagree. He would probably strongly disagree tomorrow, too. He grabbed his wallet and took out his credit card, knowing that by now he was too far gone to handle cash. He handed it to the bartender before he turned back to Riza. “I bought take-away too. Are you hungry?”

“No, Roy, I’m taking you home and then going back to my own place. I have a life outside of taking care of you, you know.”

Roy smirked. “Really? And I thought I was all you had.”

Riza let out an annoyed sigh and didn't even bother with a reply. The bartender returned with his card and receipt, which Roy took. He put the card back in his wallet, took out some cash as a tip and got up. Riza immediately reached for him to help him stand (was he really that bad?) and after making sure he did not forget anything, they made their way outside of the restaurant. 

“You took your sweet time.”

The new voice, awfully familiar, made Roy look up and frown. He glared at the man standing there, smoking, and then moved his glare to Riza. “You didn’t say you brought company.”

“Like I said, I have a life outside of taking care of your sorry ass. Do you think I sit alone at home waiting for you to call me?” she paused, looking around. “Did you expect me to leave my boyfriend alone at home and come rescue you? Where’s your car?”

“I expected you not to spread my shameful moments around. It’s right there,” he pointed towards the general area where he parked Bella. 

Jean disconnected himself from the wall, threw his cigarette to the ground and stepped on it before he started walking in the direction Roy pointed. Riza dragged Roy with her after him. “Getting stood up is nothing to be ashamed of.”

“ _ You told him that too?” _

“What did you want me to say when I told him I was going to pick up your drunk ass? Keys, Roy.”

Roy grunted in annoyance, but searched for his car keys and gave them to Riza anyway. “How about literally  _ anything else _ ?” as soon as Riza took the keys from his hand he could hear his girl’s call for him and saw her lights flashing nearby. A moment later he was already at the door, being led to the back seat - which made him complain and move himself to the passenger’s seat. This was still  _ his _ car, afterall, even if he couldn’t drive it right now. He saw Riza shaking her head but she didn’t say anything as she slid into the driver’s seat. Jean placed himself on the backseat.

“I got stood up hundreds of times! Like I said, it is nothing to be ashamed of.”

“Seat belt, Roy.”

Roy reached over, struggling with with the seat belt. It was on the wrong side of his body. “Somehow, you know, that does not make me feel even an ounce better.” Under him, the car roared into life.

“I’m serious though! What, are you trying to tell me that you were never stood up before?”

“No.”

“Wow.” They left the parking lot, embarking on their way towards Roy’s place. “That's unbelievable.” 

Roy frowned. “Do people really do it that often? Why would they schedule a meeting in the first place?”

“I don’t know. They chicken out? Maybe they do come, see the other person and then decide to walk away.” There was a pause. Then Roy felt his seat leaning back a little as Jean pulledhimself forward. “Do you think that’s what happened? She came, saw you and left?”

Roy slapped Jean’s hand away. “Why would anyone ever do that?! I’m a handsome guy.”

He saw Riza glancing at him before she took a right turn. “You do have a little bit of weird face. Too round. Almost babyface. Some people are not into that.”

“Why are you two ganging up on me? I don’t have babyface. I look good. Besides, it’s not a blind date. He knows what I look like.”

_ “‘He’? _ You were going to have a date with a guy?” Roy felt Jean’s hand on his seat again. “Is it that blond guy we texted with? Why didn’t you tell me that you were still texting him!”

Roy's head started spinning. Maybe those last few drinks were not his smartest idea. He closed his eyes, doing his best to hold back his increasing nausea. “Maybe because who I text and who I meet is none of your business,” he said. “Do you mind shutting up about it for a bit? It is bad enough that he did not show up, I don't need you poking around in it too.” Roy swallowed. He was lucky that Riza's driving was smooth despite the manual gear.  _ Smoother than his _ , he thought bitterly. 

His seat moved again as Jean let go, possibly leaning back in his seat. “No problem, mate.”

The rest of the ride home was quiet, although it felt so much longer than usual as Roy fought to not make a mess in his new car. He gave Jean his phone to open up the garage gate, feeling unable to use his phone screen. Riza parked the car, and the next thing he knew was that he was dragged out of the car and led to his own home. He heard Jean complaining about his weight -  _ well, he did not spend hours at the gym for nothing _ \- and Riza telling him to man up and that anyway she was carrying most of it. Roy disagreed. He felt like he was the one doing most of the work, but he also did not feel he was in any state to say that.

Somehow - Roy wasn't even sure how - they made it to his floor. The elevator doors ( _ ah, that might explain some of it _ ) opened and Roy was led towards his apartment. A smile spread on his lips at the sound of Charlie’s barks. Next to him Jean tensed, but they kept walking towards his door anyway. Riza searched through Roy’s keys for his home one, letting Jean support most of Roy’s weight ( _ he still thought he could hold himself up, but he did not have the energy to protest or attempt to prove that _ ). Once she found the right one she unlocked the door and opened it carefully, making sure that the dog wouldn’t run outside.

Roy, however, had a different idea on the matter. “Charlie!” He called as soon as the barks sounded close enough to be near the door. “Come here, good boy.”

“Don’t you think it would be better if he stayed inside?” Jean’s voice sounded hopeful.

“Nonsense!” 

“He’s actually right, Roy,” Riza said, now joining Jean in holding Roy up.  Roy mumbled something about Jean being wrong as they both carried him inside just in time for Charlie to reach the door. Jean kicked the door closed behind them but did not make any further progress.

Roy let go of his friends, not caring anymore about how unstable he felt. He managed to hold himself up, and that was what mattered. He bent down to pet Charlie. He felt as soft and warm as always, and Roy could not fight the urge to hug him - which led to him almost falling on top of Charlie, if Riza didn’t hold him back. “Careful there. How about we take you to lay down?”

Roy considered her words. It was probably a smart idea to lay down, considering the way his apartment spinned. “Mmm. I guess that would be wise,” he mumbled, and let her help him onto his couch. Charlie walked over to him, probably slowly considering the state of his leg but to Roy it looked like he practically teleported. Next to him he saw Jean flinch.

“He’s not going to do anything to you, you know. Especially not with his leg like this.”

“Yes, I… I know that…”

Roy heard Riza sigh, and felt her guiding him to lay down. He was in no position to object to that. “You can go home now Jean. I can handle him from here.”

Handle him? Like he was some kind of a child? Yes, he needed a driver today, but that was hardly his fault. He got stood up. Anyone would spend their time drinking in this situation. But he didn’t need… a babysitter. He could handle himself. He just needed the world to stop spinning, and then he would get up and drag himself… to bed, probably. A shower would have to wait until morning. “I’m fine,” he mumbled, but was gloriously ignored.

“Are you sure? I can stay.” Roy heard very clearly in Jean’s voice that he could not.

He heard Riza laugh softly. She had such a nice laugh. She should do this more often. Roy should tell her. “You should laugh more, you actually have a very nice laugh.”

Riza glanced at him, and then returned to her boyfriend. “Yes, I am sure. Take the car, I’ll come later with a taxi.”

Roy frowned at the blatant ignoring. He was about to comment on that but it seemed like too much effort. He saw Jean hesitating, at least until Charlie let out a soft whine and it seemed like a decision was made. “I’ll see you later then, I guess. Good night, Roy. Don’t take this too hard! There are many fish in the sea.”

“I’m not taking anything hard - “

“Of course you’re not. Good night Jean, don’t wait up, okay?”

Jean replied and then Roy heard his home door open and close, and he could only assume that Jean was gone. “What car?” he asked.

“Oh, I figured it was smarter if I came here with my car and got a taxi from here,” Riza replied.

He sighed and allowed himself to sink into his couch. He felt it sink under the weight of another person and moaned in annoyance as he was forced to make room for Riza.

Silence wrapped them for a bit - except for Charlie’s heavy breathing - until Riza spoke. “How is he doing?”

Roy turned, just enough to look at her. She was sitting at his feet, leaning down to pet Charlie's head. He seemed to like it, considering the way he put his harmed paw on her knee. “Better. He still has a road ahead of him.”

He saw her smiling, and the dog mirrored the smile, rewarding her with a happy bark. “He’s a strong guy. He will get well in no time, and be able to run and jump again.” She moved her stare from Charlie’s big brown eyes to Roy’s. “Want to tell me why you ended up like this, Roy?”

A grunt. “Not really.”

“And do you really think I would let it be? How long has it been since you needed help up your own elevator?”

Roy sighed. He knew he was not going to get out of this easily. “Two years. And nine months.”

“Almost three years. And you ruin this over - a person you don’t even know, not showing up for a date?”

Roy sat up. The world was still spinning, and he knew that laying down was probably the smarter thing to do, but it felt weird with Riza there next to him. “The  _ embarrassment _ of sitting there alone - you don’t know how it feels - and I kept insisting he would come…” He let out a loud, exaggerated sigh.

“Yes, I know, Roy. It’s embarrassing. You can’t ever show your face there again. But that doesn’t justify ruining almost three years of sobriety. We both know this is not the real reason Jean and I almost had to peel you off the floor. So why?”

Roy frowned. “I didn’t ruin anything. I never claimed I wanted to stop drinking. And I didn’t drink  _ that _ much. More than I should have, yes, but you are overblowing it.”

“I don’t think I am, considering your state. One glass of whiskey every few nights is fine. We all do that. But this… oh, Roy.” He felt her soft touch on his knee. It was tempting to shake her away. “I know you feel devastated, but it is actually good to see you this invested in a date after all this time.”

_ Invested _ ? In a date with someone he met on a hook-up application and they never even met, or heard, each other before? Impossible. “There was no ‘date’ to be ‘invested’ in. Ed never showed up, or did you forget that?”

“But you wanted there to be one.” It was not a question. Riza merely pointed out a fact. Her voice was even, hard - but not unkind. “You wanted him to show up - “

“Of course I did! I would not have asked him out - “

“You wanted him to show up,” Riza repeated, more strongly, making Roy close his mouth. “So badly that instead of just having a dinner and going home, or going someplace else and finding another warm body for the night, you kept waiting until it got the best of you and you found your warmth at the bottom of whatever bottle it was there. This was not just ‘another date’ for you.”

Roy frowned. He was getting annoyed. Charlie whined again, and limped his way towards Roy, now placing his furry head on Roy’s knee. Distracted, he pet his head, hands randomly hitting the fluffy ears. “What do you want me to say?” he asked. He knew that this conversation, this situation, the percentage of alcohol in his blood, were all getting the best of him. He knew that wishing her a good night and making his way to the bedroom would be the better course of action. But knowing and doing were two very different things. “That I found in him someone who is actually interesting to talk with? That I thought I finally found someone that challenges me? That I thought - “ he stopped. Even as intoxicated as he was, he could not vocalize that thought. He couldn’t even complete it in his own head.

“You thought you could be happy with him.” Riza completed the scary thought for him. “Or at least, that you had a chance to be.”

Roy frowned, and looked away. “You know better than anyone that I don’t deserve that.”

He heard Riza sighing, and felt her hand on his knee, pushing as she got up on her feet. “I know that you deserve happiness just as much as anyone else. No, don’t,” Roy pouted at her, and saw her returning a smile. How annoying, when he wanted to insist that he did not, in fact, deserve it. Not after the things he’d done. “Come on. You look like you got ran over by a car. Let’s get you to bed and talk about it tomorrow?” She offered a hand to help him up. Roy considered fighting her over this, insisting on his point… but he really was too exhausted for it. He was beyond the state of arguing now, and his body demanded rest.

Sleep sounded like a heavenly refuge. He took the offered hand and with his friend’s help pushed himself up on his feet. 

“You will have other opportunities, Roy, I am sure.”

Roy grunted, hoping Riza will accept that as a satisfying enough answer as they made their way to the bedroom.

Tomorrow will be another day.


	8. Chapter 6.5: Interlude

She got off the taxi, smiling and paying the driver before closing the door behind her and making her way towards her place. She tapped the code for the main gate, and gave a short nod of acknowledgement to the security guard before making her way to the elevators. At this time of night, the lobby was more or less deserted, but it did not bother Riza.

The events of the night did.

It had been so long since she had seen her friend like this, and she certainly did not miss the sight. While being in Roy’s apartment and helping him to his bed, taking his shoes off and making sure he was properly covered, she considered staying there with him, like she used to, in the past. But it was unfair to Jean, and she had the feeling that come morning, Roy would not appreciate it. So instead she left him in his bed, slightly amused by the sound of snores that shortly followed, and arranged his apartment a little bit: she put his takeaway in the fridge, hoping he will find it in the morning and manage to eat it without throwing up. She made sure to feed Charlie and replace his water, and took him on a short walk, feeling sorry for the overgrown fur baby.

She felt sorry for the other overgrown baby, too, but at least he will be able to take care of himself, once morning comes, no matter how great the consequences of his nighttime drinking are.

More than Riza felt sorry, however, she was mad. Not at Roy. He was an addict,  _ sick _ , even though it had been years since his last breakdown. He was trying very hard, and he did very well. This fall wasn't on him. It was on that Ed guy, who thought he had the right to hurt her friend like this. Who thought it was fine to lead a man on and then disappear with no explanation. Even if he didn't know Roy's situation (and considering they haven't even met yet, she highly doubted Roy would share such a detail) it wasn't right. The very least he could do was text Roy and tell him he wasn't coming. 

The elevators doors opened on the fourth floor and she walked through, crossing the corridor to get to her apartment and entered her home. She was greeted by a muffed call from the bedroom, which made her smile as she made her way there.

“How is he doing?” Jean asked as soon as she walked in. She sat down on the bed, instantly feeling the mattress move as Jean closed the distance to place a kiss on her shoulder. 

She sighed. “He will be fine. I expect a major headache tomorrow morning, but nothing worse.” She half turned to kiss Jean's lips shortly and then got up again, walking towards the bathroom to get ready for bed. They planned to watch a movie but taking care of Roy brought the evening to its end.

“Good,” she heard Jean call. “You know, we started texting that Ed guy as a joke. We - at least I - didn't realize he would actually take this so seriously.”

She finished brushing her teeth and returned to the bedroom. “It's not your fault,” she said, changing into her pajamas. “Joke or not, you had good intentions. You could not know he will choose not to show up. You could not predict how roughly Roy will take this. Don't blame yourself.” 

“I guess you are right.” Jean moved the blanket, making room for Riza as she joined him. “But I still feel a bit responsible.”

“You should not have meddled with his love life like this,” Riza said and snuggled closer to get boyfriend, enjoying his warmth. “But you are not responsible for anything that followed. Not Roy's choice to continue texting with him. Not that Ed's choice to meet with him, and certainly not his choice not to show up. And…” she sighed, enjoying the feeling of Jean's arms wrapping around her. “What happened tonight… you did not force a single drop down his throat.”

She felt a kiss on the top of her head. “I am relieved that you say that,” Jean's voice was quieter now, clearly he was just as tired as she was. “I… still feel a little at fault. But you are right. It was Roy's choice to drink tonight. I just… wish he wouldn't have taken this so hard.”

“I know,” Riza said softly and closed her eyes. She felt exhausted. “But he will get over this. Roy is a strong man. He got over much worse than this. He can get over a stranger not showing up for a date.”

 

She was late for work. She knew that, because her alarm rang already for four times, but she was still laying in bed, wrapped in the warmth of her blanket. She opened her eyes in a start. Riza was never late to work. This was horrible. Unthinkable. 

The alarm rang again, but now she realized something was off. The first thing that hit her was that the room was still dark. She certainly did not feel like she slept long enough and - as the alarm rang again, she realizes that wasn't even the sound of her alarm clock. Next to her, Jean groaned and turned, burying his face in the pillow, most likely in an attempt to escape the noise. She picked up her phone to check the time. 3am. She wasn't late. Of course she wasn't. It was a Saturday. There was no work to be late to. But she had no notifications. She glanced at her side, frowning as she came to the conclusion the only culprit could be her boyfriend. But who on earth would text him at such a time?

Riza grunted and reached over to get Jean's phone, but it seemed to have no notifications either. But if it wasn't her phone, and wasn't Jean's…

She gasped, suddenly wide awake. Did Jean never -?

She got up and searched around the room, unsure of  _ what _ she was looking for. Surely if Jean would have noticed, he would have given it back right away. They both knew that Roy was usually attached to his phone with an infusion needle. Which means if her assumption was right, it would be hidden. In Jean's pants, or his jacket. Something he wouldn't notice easily. 

Another ring, directing her towards the dresser. She found Jean's jacket there, and after patting a few pockets, she indeed found what she was looking for. Roy's phone, screen still on from the most recent message he got. She stared at it. It showed 4 new messages. From  _ Tinder _ .

She frowned at the screen as she saw who they were from.

He had some nerve.

Riza intended to silence the phone, briefly considering – knowing her friend – to go to Roy’s place and just drop it there, but it was too late for that. He was most likely deep asleep. She was tired and  _ should _ be sleeping. Hopefully, Roy will wake up late enough that he will not have too long to panic before she gets it to him. But her curiosity, the need to know what the man that saw fit to hurt her friend like this thought he could say  _ at three am _ to make things right.

Her guess was that there was nothing worthy there.

The phone rang again. The screen, that in the meanwhile faded to black, sparked back to life, showing a fifth notification.  _ Ed sent you a message!  _ The phone vibrated in her hand, its ring sharp in her ears. This was getting out of hand. She pressed Roy’s code to the screen and unlocked it. Someone needs to teach this guy a lesson. Someone needs to tell him how wrong it is to waste someone’s time like that. She opened the messages, immediately confronted by a string of messages, most of them not longer than a few words.

_ Hey _

_ Sorry about the time _

_ Are you awake? _

_ Did I wake you? _

_ I'm really sorry _

She frowned at the screen. At the bottom of the screen she saw three dots, indicating that he was still typing. He really did have some nerve, sending all those basically meaningless messages. Was he apologizing for the time? For not showing up?

Did it matter?

_ I didn’t mean to do it _

The next message showed up in a little gray babble. She grunted in annoyance, setting her fingers on the keyboard to start typing; but he was faster than her.

_ Not waking you up _

The three dots appeared again. With this kind of typing, what did Roy even see in this guy? He was texting like a teenager, lacking the ability to create a paragraph; to create a full  _ sentence _ . She assumed, since he was still texting him via Tinder, that this was their only means of communication. Surely he would use something more convenient otherwise.  

_ Though I swear I didn’t mean to do that either _

She didn’t even have time to let out the sigh of annoyance that built in her before the next message popped up on the screen.

_ Please don’t hate me _

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” she muttered to herself and set her mind to make this nonsense end.Ignoring the three dots showing, yet again, on the screen, she placed her thumbs on the keyboard.

_ Hello Ed. This is Roy’s friend writing. I am not sure if you are aware of the time, but it is currently past 3am in this part of the world. A time when most people are asleep. Roy is asleep, you can’t wake him up right now, but you woke me up. I am not sure what you and him were talking about, and I have no intentions of trying to find out, but I know him and I know he did not do anything to deserve having his time wasted like this. No matter what your intentions were, scheduling a meeting with someone and then not showing up is a cowardly, asshole move. If you did not want to meet him, for whatever reason, that is definitely within your right and no one would even bat an eye, but the least you could do was cancel before the actual meeting time, and not several good hours after. Please stop texting at such an unreasonable time. There is no excuse for that. Good night. _

Send.

Pleased with her message and her solution to the situation, she turned off the phone, placed it in her purse to get it back to its rightful owner, and went back to bed. Jean welcomed her back by snuggling close. She smiled softly and fell asleep in his arms.


	9. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sooooooooooo so sorry for being this late!!!

_ I had an emergency and couldn’t cancel right _

He should have gone to sleep. Ed knew it when he first unlocked his phone and now, when he alternated between checking what’s new on his Discord (nothing) and staring at the message Roy’s friend sent him (what kind of friend would be with him, with his phone, at 3am?), it was even clearer. The clock on the wall now showed four, and Ed was exhausted, but he didn’t feel like he could sleep. The nurses came and went, drifting like ghosts in and out of the room. Each time they told him that he should sleep, and made various suggestions - getting him to a guest room (out of the question), bringing in a folded bed (he didn’t want to bother anyone) or bringing in a blanket (he was currently wrapped in it but it did nothing to make him sleepy) - but he still couldn’t sleep.

Maybe it was the adrenaline still lingering in his system. Maybe it was just worry, even though the nurses promised (and held through) to check in on Al. But he knew that it wasn’t enough. Checking in on him and making sure he was alright, at least, as alright as he could be, wasn’t enough. What if he woke up and Ed was asleep? What if he needed something, what if he was in pain, or his condition suddenly worsened again, and Ed wasn’t concious to support him?

He knew, on some logical level, that as exhausted as he was he could not be of any help even if Al needed him. He also knew that if Al knew he was keeping himself awake like this, he would be mad at him, claiming he was letting his own health go bad for him, which wasn’t exactly wrong, but wasn’t right either, because Ed knew his own limitations. And it wasn’t like he was doing this on purpose, anyway. Even if he tried, he wouldn’t be able to sleep. Not with the machines beeping Al’s life next to him. Not when he feared that any moment something could go wrong again. 

So he was left to wallow in his thoughts. He didn’t even know why he felt this bad about not showing up today. Not only did he had a good excuse - as far as excuses go, he could not think of anything more worthy than taking care of his little brother - but he also didn’t really want to go on this date to begin with. He owed this Roy guy  _ nothing _ . He owed Al to try, but he was sure even ever-meddling-Al wouldn’t be mad at him for prioritizing him, especially when Winry had an important meeting tomorrow morning and couldn’t stay the entire night. She would have if Ed wasn’t there, all three of them knew it, but all three of them also knew that Al would feel guilty as hell if she missed out on this meeting because of him, and Ed could spare to miss the day in school. He’d catch up in no time anyway and ‘taking care of my sick brother’ was just as valid as an excuse for his professors as it was for his date.

He turned on his phone’s screen which had gone dark in the meanwhile, and stared at the messages again. He sounded like an anxious, clingy teenager. And that message from the so-called  _ friend _ , having Roy’s phone at 3am. Something was fishy there. Certainly. And if… even if it wasn’t, and even if Roy could forgive him for not showing up, after his string of messages there was no such chance.

He shouldn’t even care. Showing this to Al when he woke up and felt better Ed was sure even his brother would not dare say that he didn’t try. He might have tried  _ too hard _ , but it was an easy out of jail ticket to get out of a date he didn’t even want. He should feel  _ relieved _ . 

From outside the window he could see the faint blue light penetrating through the hospital blinds. Was it really dawn already? Ed put his phone on Al’s nightstand and moved to make himself slightly more comfortable in his uncomfortable hospital chair. Soon there will be another round of nurses coming in to check on Al and the other patients. Soon they will serve breakfast, too. If he’s lucky they’d be kind enough to serve him something too, but if not - the canteen should open in an hour or so, if he remembered correctly. He didn’t even notice when the world slipped away, the noises around him blurring into a tense, dreamless sleep.

 

He was surprised to realize that the noises around him woke him up. Startled, Ed opened his eyes to see that the blinds had been opened, now allowing the full sunlight in. There was a tray with food (nothing too appetizing, but considering the way Ed’s stomach growled happily at the sight, even gross hospital food would do) placed on Al’s nightstand. His eyes moved a few inches, landing on a very much awake Al, his eyes buried deep in his phone. He seemed better than he was last night. Holding himself up and everything. Ed smiled, pushing aside the disturbing thought about how he ended up falling asleep despite not wanting to and what exactly the time was. He will find out, sooner or later. 

Al lifted his eyes from his phone, probably sensing Ed’s stare on him. “Good morning, Brother.”

An apology for falling asleep while he was supposed to be watching Al was standing on the edge of his tongue but he knew Al will scold him for even thinking it. “Good morning,” he offered instead, stifling a yawn. 

“Did you sleep well?” 

Ed frowned at the humor in his brother’s voice. “Did you?”

“Like a log,” Al replied with his devilish smile. “The sedatives they gave me work great. Maybe we should ask them to get you some of that. Maybe then you’ll stop going to bed at like 4am.”

“I doubt they will let you grab some of that shit. Besides, I sleep just fine.” Ed rubbed his eyes.  _ Too _ fine. “So, did the test results come back?”

Al sighed and leaned back into his raised pillow. “Yes. The nurse said you were up almost all night so when she came in and saw you were asleep she didn’t wake you. Apparently my kidneys decided that they feel too alone in the party and they invited my liver.” 

“Sounds like a fun party. So, what now?”

“Now…” Al sighed, but still had a weak, forced smile on his lips. “I have a few more pills to take.”

Ed arched an eyebrow. “Are you sure pills are enough?”

“Well I’m here like three times a week. I’m sure they will notice if the pills aren’t doing their job well enough.”

“Clearly not, considering you were here three times a week for the past year and they didn’t realize there was something wrong with your liver to begin with. Maybe we should move you - “

“ _ No _ , Brother. They’re nice here. They’re good. They couldn’t know my liver decided to accept the invitation.”

Ed knew that Al was right. Unless they would have made Al go through invasive, painful tests every week, they had no way of knowing. The nurses here already knew them; befriended them. They were kind and they did their work diligently. They answered all their questions professionally and with knowledge. Besides, this place was covered by Ed’s insurance. As much as he would have liked to choose another place if needed, he really could not afford to do it. And now, with Al’s added pills, he was sure if it would be even more difficult. Maybe giving a millionaire hot guy a chance wasn’t such a bad idea. Too bad he blew his chance.

“Alright,” he sighed, and looked around. “Did you see my phone, by the way?”

“Oh! Yeah,” Al stretched to the side, wincing as if it hurt him. Ed regretted his question but knew that if he said anything about it now Al will just get mad at him. “Apparently you dropped it when you fell asleep. Dave picked it up and put it on my nightstand. Here,” he handed it over. “Why didn’t you just go to sleep?”

“Didn’t feel tired,” Ed grabbed his phone. His battery was low, but not bad enough that it wouldn’t survive. “When are they letting you go?”

“If I stay fine then this evening. Why? Do you have somewhere to go? 

Ed felt his cheeks growing hot, and lowered his face in an attempt to hide whatever blush might appear. Why did he even blush? He clicked on Facebook app, not really interested in anything there, but he needed the excuse. Opening the app seemed to have turned it to life, as suddenly three new notifications appeared, drawing his eyes to the notification bar. Facebook was not the only application that had notifications. He stared harder at his feed, still not really seeing anything that was on it. “No, do I need to have somewhere to go to wonder when my little brother can be discharged from the hospital? Is Winry coming to pick you up or do  you want to take a taxi with me?”

“She’ll come by later, and if they really let me go I guess we’ll drive you too if you’re still here. What’s so interesting there?”

“Nothing,” Ed replied. Fast. Too fast.

“Who’re you texting with?”

“ _ No one _ . I’m on Facebook.”

“I don’t buy that - wait, wasn’t last night your date?”

_ Shit _ . Ed resigned to his fate. “Yeah.”

“ _ Please _ tell me that at least you cancelled like a normal person and apologized? Seriously Ed, you shouldn’t have stayed here with me - “

“Are you insane Al? Even if not going with you didn’t mean leaving you alone since Win couldn’t come, do you really think I could think about anything other than you when you’re laying in a hospital bed, condition unknown? Even if I actually cared for that guy - which I  _ don’t _ \- I can’t go out on a date when you feel so bad I had to call an ambulance for you.”

“You’re so frustrating, Ed. Did you at least call to tell him you’re not coming.”

“I don’t have his phone number - and no, I did not text him. I was more worried about my little brother being in so much pain he couldn’t get up from a chair. I texted him later.”

Al narrowed his eyes at him. “ _ How _ later?”

“Three am. When you were finally asleep.”

“You’re a lost cause Ed. Really. I don’t know what to do with you. Did he reply?”

“Why do you care about this so much right now? Shouldn’t you worry about - I don’t know - your  _ liver _ ?”

He looked up and saw the look on Al’s face, immediately regretting his harsh tone. “I have enough people - good people, knowledgeable people - worrying about my body already. Me worrying about it too won’t help. I do what I can to keep it in as good shape as I can, but putting everything on hold just because I’m sick won’t do anyone any good. I’m trying to focus on the better things. Fun things. Getting my only brother a boyfriend is a fun thing. I want you to be happy. No - don’t,” Ed closed his mouth, his objection dying before even making it to his lips. “I know you want to say you’re already happy, that you say that you’re not looking for anything, but I see the way you look when Winry and I talk about our relationship. And I know you’re not as happy alone as you pretend to be. You think I don’t know that you’re putting a hold on things that could make you happy because of me? That I don’t see that you work yourself half to death to pay for school and my treatments? You’re not as good of a liar as you think you are. Don’t get me wrong, Ed,” Al moved a little, wincing again as clearly just moving still hurt. Ed wondered how were they going to let him go home like this, but he did not dare say a word, not now. “I really appreciate what you do. Without you and without your efforts, I don’t know if I’d still be alive right now. But… I don’t want to just be alive. And I don’t want you to live for me. I want you to live for yourself, just a little. I don’t care if it’s this Roy guy or someone else, but he seemed like a good choice.” He shrugged. “It looked to me from the texts I read that you had good chemistry. It looked like he could actually be someone you enjoyed spending time with.”

Ed’s head was still lowered, but for a completely different reason now. He felt ashamed. “Al, I - “ he started, but was cut by the ring of his phone. Annoyed, he glanced at it. The annoyance changed into a strange mix of both worry and relief when he saw the content. At least, where the notification was from - and from whom. “Shit,” he muttered and placed his phone on his lap. “I didn’t realize you felt this way. I’m - I really am content just taking care of you. Do I sometimes think I’d like… I don’t know. Someone? Yes, I can’t and don’t want to lie to you. But I’m fine with it coming along later in life. I’m fine with not pushing it, and pushing to get you better, and get us both to a better place in life. It matters more to me than some guy or another. I prefer to see you study and get well and succeed than, you know, spend the night with someone. I’m happy seeing how happy you are with Winry. You have enough to worry about, Al. You don’t need to worry about me. I’m not putting anything on hold because of you.”

He looked at his brother and saw the look on his face. He already knew it was a lost cause. “Whatever, Ed. Was that him?”

Ed couldn’t help a small, tired smile at Al’s complete ignorance of his words. “Yeah.”

“So what are you waiting for? Check it!”

Ed shook his head, but picked up his phone and looked at his messages anyway.

_ An Emergency? Are you okay? _

He wasn’t sure why, but he expected to be called out on a lie. He expected Roy to tell him to fuck off. He nibbled at his lower lip for a bit before typing. _Yes, I’m okay._ He sent, then thought for a second. He glanced up at his brother, seeing his expecting face still staring directly at him. Oh well. _Still with my brother at the hospital but he’s stable now._ _I’m really sorry about last night. Can I make it up to you?_ He gave the phone to Alphonse, feeling unsure about the content of the message. Was it alright to mention Al and his condition? Is he doing the right thing, offering to make it up to this stranger? And what could he even do for him? He was a millionaire. He didn’t need anything Ed had to offer.

Except for maybe his body, but that was not for sale.  

“You know he’s going to ask you to meet him in his place or something like that, right?”

Ed frowned. “Well, then I’m going to say no. I agreed to seeing him in a public place and that’s already a lot. I’m not going to first go to his place - “

“So he can cut you into pieces. I know, I know. I’m just warning you in advance - Wow! He’s quick.” The sound of Ed’s phone chiming cut into Al’s words. “Must really like you. Huh! He wants your phone number. Why didn’t he have your phone number yet? I’m giving it to him.”

“What? Are you crazy? Al no - “

Ed’s face fell when he saw the victorious smirk on his brother’s face. “Al, yes.” If Alphonse wasn’t lying in a hospital bed Ed would’ve punched him. Gently. “He got it now, too late to change your mind!”

“I  _ never _ gave you permission to do that.”

“I consider you giving me your phone to authorize your texts as permission to make decisions for you.”

“You’re an ass.”

“Nuh, you love me to death - oh!” 

“Wha - “ Ed realized the music was coming from his own phone, still in Alphonse’s hands. This was bad. “ _Is he calling already?!”_ _Very_ bad.

“Yeah, he must  _ really _ like you! Awesome!” Ed saw Al’s finger moving to the screen.

“Al, we’re not at home! It’s going to disturb the other people!”

“Nonsense, we gonna give them class A entertainment.”

“No - fuck,  _ Al _ , don’t you  _ dare _ \- “

“Shh, I’m talking on the phone! Ooh, it a video call.” Ed was already halfway from his chair to Al’s bed to snatch his phone back, but it was too late. He saw his finger gliding over the screen. “Hello!” He watched in horror as Alphonse smiled at his phone.

“I’m going to  _ kill _ you,” he whispered as he realized there’s nothing he can do to prevent this nightmare form happening.

“Sick brother’s here. Oh my! You’re even hotter in video!”

There were a few seconds of silence, disturbed by the sound of a cough. “Oh, hello sick brother. I hope you are doing better?”

“Yeah, Ed here had been taking care of me. He’s a really great - “

Ed thought he might die of embarrassment. “Oh my God -  _ Al give me that phone _ \- “

“Hold on hottie your boyfriend is practically snatching the phone from me, here you go! Say hi nicely, Ed,” Alphonse added as he handed the phone over.

“Shut up Al,” Ed said and then took a deep breath. He was  _ not _ ready for this. He was tired, and he slept on a hospital chair which meant he also  _ looked _ tired. He had no idea in what condition his hair was and hospital lights did favors to no one. Alphonse was insane to have picked up that call. He cleared his throat, forced a weak smile, and brought the phone in front of his face. “Uh, hi, Roy,” he said, feeling awkward as fuck. He saw himself in the little picture on the top right side. He really did look awful. 

If Roy was still taking him out on a date after this he was really going to start judging his taste.

Although… he looked at the larger picture on the screen, showing Roy’s face (Al was not wrong, he really did look better in live video rather than pictures; which made him wonder just how much more handsome he was in real life). He looked a bit tired, too. Not even tenth as bad as Ed did. The dark background (was it a study? Ed could see a library with some big books at the back. And why was it so dark?) dulled the picture a little.

Roy smiled at him. Ed was… almost breathless. The pictures, good as they were, did nothing to represent just how stunning his smile was. Reaching every line in Roy's features Ed watched as his eyes, already a little almond- shaped, squinted a little as his cheeks gained a certain puff to them when his lips arched up, revealing just a hint of perfect white teeth. It was mesmerizing. "Good to see you, Ed. I hope I do not interfere?"

Ed blinked. It took him a second to register that he was being spoken to. He must have been more tired than he realized. "What? Oh, uh, no, it's fine. Just I don't have that much battery. But it's okay. I'm, uh, sorry," he paused and scratched behind his hair. He felt all the knots. God, he needed a shower. "For last night. And this morning. I suppose it was already morning. And… for now," he looked meaningfully at Al before returning his eyes to the screen. "Al - I mean, my brother, apologizes too."

"Like hell I do! Don't lie to him like that,  brother -"

Then something even better happened. Roy laughed. "It's alright. I see you had a good reason. I'm sorry to hear about your brother. Will he be alright?"

Ed looked away for a moment. He had no intentions of revealing Alphonse's medical condition to this -  _ stranger  _ \- but he also didn't want to lie. Especially not next to Al. "I think so," he said eventually. 

“Good. He seemed rather upbeat to me.”

“Maybe a little too upbeat.” Ed eyed his brother again. Al was smiling sheepishly at him, clearly listening to every word. “Anyway… uh… you called.”

“Yes, I wanted to see who I’ve been talking to these past few weeks.”

“You wanted to see who’s the asshole that stood you up and make sure I’m not a twelve-year-old child playing pranks on innocent men.”

“ _ Brother! _ I told you to be nice - “

“You’re giving yourself too much credit, I was starting to worry you did not hit the double digit yet.”

Ed frowned. “Are you calling me childish?”

Roy smiled at him again. “Anyway, I believe you still owe me a date. Are you free on Friday night?”

“So you’re asking out on a date a guy who’s age you thought might be in the single digit area?” Ed’s eyebrow arched up. Friday. He still wasn’t sure how his work schedule would look like, so far ahead, but Friday night was usually his shift. No one else wanted it, and he really didn’t care. It was usually Al and Winry’s date night, so he had nothing important. “I think I’m working,” he replied. Better to say this than say he might be free and cancel, again.

“What time do you get off then?”

“No,it’s… it’s late…”

_ “Brother!”  _ Al’s harsh whisper made him look up to see Alphonse’s glare at him.

“Probably around eleven or something like that.”

“Great then!” the cheerful tone made Ed arch up both his eyebrows in surprise. What was so great? At eleven most places will be already closed. Dinner should have already been eaten. There was nothing left to do except - 

Oh,  _ hell no. _ “Listen, I’m - “

“I’ll pick you up at work if you want, we can - “

“Roy, I’m not going to come to your place.”

There were a few seconds of silence. Ed could  _ feel _ Al’s eyes burning holes in him, and he knew he was up for some serious scolding. But it didn’t matter. He wasn’t going to go to this stranger’s house, no matter how hot he was or how bad he felt about standing him up the night before. Him staying alive was worth more than that.

“I was not going to suggest that.” Roy’s eyes, looking just as black in the video as they did in the pictures, looked directly at Ed. “I was thinking more about going somewhere to sit and talk. Maybe have a snack. You probably will be starving after working so late.”

Ed was taken aback. This was… so different than what he imagined. “Oh.” He was sure this Roy guy was a complete douche. What with his Mustang car and what seemed to be designer’s clothes and the first messages. But the more he spoke to him - especially now, when it was so immediate, and he could see how his features changed as he spoke, smiled or laughed - the more he started to think that maybe,  _ maybe _ , he was actually a decent person. He heard Al whispering things to him, urging him to agree. 

He didn’t really have a choice though, didn’t he? He owed him. He owed this to Al. “Where should I meet you?”


End file.
